


Meeting Mike

by BrynTWedge



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cute, First Meetings, Greg doesn't like the morgue, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 03:43:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20885573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrynTWedge/pseuds/BrynTWedge
Summary: Greg Lestrade, newly a DS and now working in Homicide, realises he needs more exposure to dead bodies and the morgue to stop feeling 'uncomfortable' around them.He meets Doctor Stamford, who agrees to show him around.Suddenly the morgue isn't so bad after all.





	Meeting Mike

**Author's Note:**

  * For [siriusblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriusblue/gifts).

Greg hadn’t been a sergeant long when he had to go to the morgue on his own. The few times he’d been before, he’d found it a bit creepy. He knew he had to get used to it, and so decided to try find someone to let him in often.

The director of the morgue was out, but there was a doctor on the floor the receptionist had said. Greg thanked her and went looking, ignoring the unease at the surgical instruments laid out in the rooms. _Too many horror films,_ he told himself.

There was a woman in the back of one of the larger rooms, and so Greg walked up to her.

“Hi, um, sorry, are you in charge here?”

The woman spun around with a smile. “Hi! No, but one day,” she answered brightly. “I’m just a junior pathologist. Can I help you with something?”

“I-I’m DS Lestrade. I wanted to speak to the doctor I was told was looking after the ward today?”

The woman stuck out her hand. “I’m Molly Hooper. Dr Stamford is out at lunch I think. Can I help instead?”

“No, no, I don’t think so,” he answered awkwardly. “I just need to ask about getting regular access for a bit.”

“Oh. I think that the police can organise to come whenever they need for cases, can’t they?”

“This isn’t for, uh, for a specific case.”

Molly looked confused.

“It’s… well, I-I don’t have a whole lot of experience with, uh, the morgue. I don’t want my colleagues to notice so I want to, uh, desensitise myself, I guess?” Greg shuffled his feet. “I know it sounds crazy.”

“No, I get it,” Molly cried. She then laughed. “I have never had a problem with it, but I know some people just take longer to get used to seeing the inside of dead bodies.”

“The inside of live ones are worse,” came a voice from behind Greg. He jumped with a gasp as he spun around. The man behind him was smiling at him, and suddenly all thoughts escaped his mind other than how adorable this man was. “All so delicate, the slightest mistake can be catastrophic,” the man continued as he strolled towards Greg. “At least the dead ones stay dead and don’t feel pain.”

Half of Greg’s mind was agreeing with him, and the other half was trying not to smile goofily. The man in the lab coat put his arm out for him to shake.

“Dr Stamford,” he introduced himself. “And you are?”

“Greg. Lestrade.” He cleared his throat. “Sergeant. Detective Sergeant.” He cursed himself for being so ineloquent.

“Nice to meet you. Is Molly helping you, or is there something you need from me?”

_A date, _Greg’s mind instantly supplied. He told it to be quiet as he tried to formulate a proper sentence. “I was just explaining that I wanted to ask about getting some more time in the morgue to get used to it. I-I’m not that great with… it.” His cheeks flushed at the admission.

Thankfully, Dr Stamford just smiled at him, his pudgy face radiating a warm kindness. Greg rubbed at the back of his neck bashfully.

“I’m sure we could work something out,” Stamford said. “New to the job?”

“Yeah,” Greg answered. “I just made Sergeant, and it’s not been long that I’ve been in Homicide.”

“Nice to see you going the extra mile, mate. I’m fairly new at all this as well. Gotta work your way up, and taking the shifts no one wants sometimes helps with that. I’m a surgeon, not a pathologist, and so I’m only here occasionally.”

_A handsome doctor isn’t going to want to be with me, a prematurely greying cop._ “Do you like it?” he asked, if only to stop himself saying anything more embarrassing.

“It’s very rewarding.”

“Yeah, yeah it would be. Saving lives.”

“You’ll be doing the same too, though, won’t you?” Stamford clasped him on the shoulder. “So I’m sure you know the feeling.”

“Yeah.” _Stupid, stupid! Say something clever, not just…_

“So you want to come in after hours, then?” Stamford asked him, cutting off his thoughts.

“If possible.”

“Well, Sergeant, I can let you come in when I’m on duty here, if you want? I honestly don’t know what Dr Lee would say to it… it’s a bit of an old stickler.”

_Spending more time with you sounds perfect,_ Greg thought, his heart flipping. “Sounds great! Call me Greg.”

“Mike,” Stamford answered, smiling again in that way that made Greg breathless.

~

It was the first day that Mike had called and Greg had time to spare to go into the morgue. Any thoughts of it being a date was effectively cut off by the fact that they’d be surrounded by corpses. Greg had told himself that he needed to be more professional, but something inside him just clicked when Mike had entered his sight.

“So, what do you think you’d do best with to start with, Greg?” Mike asked him. He was still in the lab coat and shirt with tie attire he’d worn the first time.

“Um, maybe just show me around the building a bit first? And then I’d like to know a little more about the instruments and stuff used. And then maybe work our way to specimens?”

“Excellent. I can see why you’d made a good policeman; you have a very structured mind.”

“Thanks?”

Mike laughed, and it was such a sweet sound. “Yes, it was a compliment.”

“It’d take the same to be a surgeon, I’d bet.”

“Not really. Just a good mind for remembering lots and _lots_ of facts. Names of bits of the body, procedures to follow… that kind of thing.”

Greg was torn between focusing more on what he was being taught, and focusing on his mentor. Mike’s middle looked so soft he could just cuddle into it and go to sleep. His smile was so genuine, and his expression perpetually kind. He had to scold himself for thinking what other things those skilled hands would be good at.

“Greg, are you listening?”

“Right, yes, sorry.”

“I don’t really have time to go through all this if you’re not going to pay attention.”

“No, you’re right, of course.”

Mike squinted at him. “What were you thinking about?”

“Why do you ask?” Greg blushed harder. Mike seemed to roll his eyes without actually doing it.

“Molly’s not on today,” Mike explained with a knowing tone. “Perhaps you should have told me that’s why you wanted to be here, so I could have organised something with her.”

“What?”

“Or, you know, you could just ask her out.”

“No!” Greg exclaimed, suddenly waving his hands in front of himself. “No! Not at all. Honestly. It’s not her that I like… I mean,” Greg added hastily, “I mean I don’t like her like that.”

Mike looked sceptical, but nodded. “Right. Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume, but you keep drifting off and having a dreamy look on your face.”

Greg bit his lip. He really needed to learn to be better at hiding his emotions and thoughts. He wanted to be a good detective, and good at interviews, and so it was a vital skill.

“Silly me,” Mike continued. “I apologise if I overstepped.”

“No, not at all.” _You were right, after all. _“That’s fine. I-I mean, that is, I should have been paying more attention.”

Mike seemed satisfied and so returned to showing him the various tools they used. _Should I have told him? He is clued in enough to notice, so surely he’s going to keep noticing, since I doubt I could keep it from him. I don’t want to scare him away though… he’s being so lovely by showing me all this. _

“_Greg_,” Mike said, exasperated. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

_Damn, I didn’t realise I wasn’t paying attention again._ “Sorry.” Mike just looked at him. “Was just thinking.”

“Look, I know I don’t really know you well, but I know people pretty well. I’ve had to learn. I can tell you’re not disinterested, so what is it that’s stealing your focus?”

Greg bit his lip again. _Oh well, here goes._ “You were right,” he started. “When you assumed that I was dreamy looking–” _oh shit, no, that’s not what I meant_ “–I mean, having a dreamy look!” Mike winced slightly at the added volume. “I-I just… it wasn’t Molly.”

Mike looked a little uncomfortable. _Oh god, he doesn’t want me to ask him. _His heart sank and he bit his lip harder. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said.”

He made to leave, but Mike grabbed his arm. “Woah, hold up. What are you talking about? Where are you going?”

“I-I thought you didn’t want me to stay–”

Mike’s discomfort turned to complete confusion. “Greg, what are you saying? You’re more nervous that some people about to go into surgery.”

_Does he really not know what I meant?_ “I said that I liked you, and you looked like you didn’t want me to.”

Mike froze, and his eyes started moving about, as if recalling the past few minutes. “You never said that,” he spoke slowly. “You just said it wasn’t Molly.”

“And there was only you left here.”

“Jumping to conclusions won’t do you any favours,” Mike chuckled. “I thought you were talking about, you know, _anyone_ else you knew.” When Greg didn’t start laughing, Mike’s expression turned more serious. “Wait, you mean it? Me?”

“Yes.”

“But… but I’m–”

“Adorable and successful and way out of my league, I know, but I was hoping–”

He was cut off by Mike’s laugh, which this time was pained. “What? No, I’m not in your league because you’re way ahead of me. I’m nothing special, mate. You could get anyone you wanted… no one thinks much of me, given how I look.”

There were so many different responses that Greg wanted to say. He wanted to argue against the other people that obviously were fat-shaming him, he wanted to argue against Mike’s low self-confidence, he wanted to list off all the reasons Greg found him adorable… but instead, he just moved in and pressed a kiss to the man’s lips.

“I like you and I want to ask you to dinner. Is that ok?” he asked simply.

Mike, still looking somewhat dumbfounded, smiled. “I’d love to.”


End file.
